A Stirring from Salem

by Sheri Anderson

  Laura was now Bill’s estranged wife, and he’d seen her again at his mother’s funeral. He’d also seen his daughter, Jennifer, and his son, Lucas, who was the product of an illicit relationship years earlier. All in all, it had been an emotionally tumultuous time.

  The doorbell rang.

  Bill sighed and then got up from his leather chair. Over the hills, a crack of lightning lit up the sky, signaling an encroaching thunderstorm.

  “Hey,” Bill said as he opened the door.

  “Hey,” Patch answered. “Can I come in?”

  “If I said no, would it make a difference?” Bill asked lightly. He and Patch had become friends. He didn’t dislike the guy, but he wasn’t in the mood for company.

  “Not really,” Patch said, entering.

  “Some iced tea?” Bill offered.

  “Sure.”

  Bill padded to the kitchen and took a pitcher of sweet tea from the fridge. Nothing was said as Bill poured a tall glass for Patch. Nothing had to be said.

  Patch took a long drink. “He lost a lot of blood, but he made it.”

  “Great.” Bill sighed with relief. “From what I could tell, he was shot by some bastard trying to poach a rhino.”

  “I hear the guy succeeded.”

  “Too many of them do,” Bill said.

  The desire for rhino horn had escalated tremendously since they’d opened the clinic. More than two hundred rhino had been poached in South Africa alone in the past year. While rhino horn had always been cherished by wealthy Chinese for use in herbal medicines and for aphrodisiacs, it had recently gained more popularity than ever around the world, even though science had proven it produced nothing more than a placebo effect.

  “At eight thousand for an ounce of powdered horn on the black market, I guess that’ll happen,” Patch admitted.

  There was a long silence, punctuated by one of the quick summer downpours that could happen on a moment’s notice.

  “Wish I could tell you what happened, Patch, but I’m clueless.”

  “You left Kayla holding the bag. Or the scalpel, I guess.”

  “And the last thing I remember is driving into Ngala.” Bill noticed Patch’s quizzical expression. “I had a quick one with Cornelius at the Trading Post and then headed for New Year’s Eve drinks with the VP from First National in Jo’burg. I got the call about the ranger on my way and called Cornelius, then you.”

  “He never got the message,” Patch said.

  “I called him,” Bill said, defending himself. “Then Kayla.”

  “What was so important at Ngala?” Patch queried.

  “Mueller, the VP,” Bill said. “I heard that guy never stops working, even on a holiday. At least I hoped so.”

  Bill’s expression was glum. The lines on his handsome but well-worn face were more prominent than ever.

  “Talk to me.”

  “I am so sorry.” Bill sighed heavily. “We’re broke, Patch. We’ll be flat broke at the end of this month. He’s my last gasp.”

  “We? You mean Tom-Ali?”

  Bill nodded. “Ever hear of a guy named Richard Gaines?”

  “Don’t think so.”

  “Like Bernie Madoff, but his scheme seemed to mostly attract those of us in the health industry. I met him at a medical convention in Paris five years ago and sank every cent we had into his hedge fund. One of those too-good-to-be-trues. And it was.”

  “A lot of people depend on this clinic,” Patch reminded him.

  “To have the place named after my folks go under will kill me,” Bill offered. “Mueller put me off until next week, but that may be too damned late. Please, don’t tell Kayla until after that last meeting. I beg you. Do not let anyone know.”

  “Bill…”

  “Promise me.” Bill was adamant.

  “Promise. But is that why you’ve been in your cups so much lately, Bud?” Patch asked while looking him squarely in the eye.

  “Strange thing is, I haven’t been overindulging,” Bill answered.

  “The slurred speech, the forgetting things?” Patch added. “Really out of character for you, man.”

  “Oh, I know it’s been happening,” Bill admitted, concerned about it himself. “I just don’t know why.”

  “Mommy!” Joe squealed. He flew to Kayla as she walked in the door.

  Seeing Joe always put a smile on Kayla’s face. Well, almost always. When she was exhausted, as she was this morning, she wished Steve was with her to absorb Joe’s energy.

  “Play with me!” Joe said as he grabbed her hand.

  “I will, sweet boy,” she agreed. “Just give me a few minutes with Violet.”

  Violet appeared from the kitchen, wiping her hands.

  “We made mud pies, Mrs. Kayla.” Violet smiled.

  “Want some, Mommy?” Joe asked. “Where’s Pop?”

  “Taking care of some things,” she answered simply. “He’ll be home soon.”

  “Can we play? Let’s play soldier!” Joe said, taking a stance as if holding a gun. “Bang!”

  Kayla blanched. “How about playing mechanic instead?” she asked. No matter that they were in Africa and had several guns in the house, Kayla was not a fan of war games.

  “Bang!” Joe repeated. “You’re dead!”

  Kayla gave him an admonishing look. He turned the pretend gun on Violet. “Bang!”

  Violet pretended to fall back, and Joe giggled happily. “Let’s build a fort!” he said, tossing the imaginary gun to the floor. “Come on, Mommy.”

  He tugged at her pant leg.

  “Let’s let your mommy rest a few minutes, my big little man.” Violet smiled. Her warm and wide smile crinkled the corners of her deep brown eyes and always made Kayla feel better. “Just ten minutes,” Violet added with a directive to Joe that let him know she meant business.

  Joe nodded and shuffled off with Violet. “Darn it,” he grumbled under his breath, which made Kayla smile. Her son was a rambunctious one, but for being just over two years old, he was both articulate and compliant.

  Kayla put her satchel on the African mahogany dining table and took out her phone to charge it. She thought about how in Africa, the phone had become as important a doctor’s tool as her stethoscope and syringes.

  As she was about to plug it in, she remembered her terse conversation with Marlena. She checked the time and selected Marlena’s cell number.

  After two rings, Marlena answered. “Kayla, hi. You didn’t need to call back.”

  “I just didn’t want to leave you hanging,” Kayla answered. “Is this a bad time?”

  “No, of course not,” Marlena said. Actually she was wrapped in John’s arms on their living-room sofa, watching the end of the parade, but she didn’t want to lose the chance to talk to Kayla. “I always love hearing a voice from home.”

  As she sat up to talk, John noticed Marlena’s demeanor change. She seemed more relaxed than she had been over the holidays.

  “Didn’t want you left hanging about Bill. I know you were close,” Kayla said gently.

  “What’s going on?” Marlena asked.

  “We don’t know, but he’s been acting strangely lately,” Kayla admitted. “I hadn’t said anything to Steve before, hoping I was imagining it, but now I’m worried. Bill always seems distracted and then forgets things. He’s just not himself.”

  “Should I call him?” Marlena asked.

  John could hear the tone in her voice.

  “Steve’s over talking to him now,” Kayla answered. “Why don’t I let you know what he finds out, if anything?”

  “Probably the best idea,” Marlena admitted. “I’ll wait to hear from you.”

  “Once again, Happy New Year. And I love hearing a voice from home, too. It was nice talking with you,” Kayla said.

  “You, too. Bye-bye,”
Marlena said. She hung up the phone and held it in her hand for a long moment. Then she turned to John to explain. “Apparently, Bill Horton’s been acting out of character.”

  “I got that,” John said.

  Marlena’s mind was swirling. Her face had a look John recognized from being in love with a psychiatrist for so many years.

  “Depending on what Patch says, I may call him,” Marlena offered.

  “You miss working and you miss friends, don’t you?” John said, with a look Marlena recognized from being in love with a man who had known her well for so many years.

  “Christmas was a bit tough,” she admitted. “With the kids all doing their own things on the other side of the world and the situation with Charley up in the air…”

  Things had been somewhat unsettling since John and Marlena had discovered that Charley Gaines was their biological daughter. She had visited them once since the revelation the previous summer, and while it was a friendly visit, it had been a bit strained. They were all amazed by the genetic traits they shared, from the way Charley’s and Marlena’s eyes smiled exactly the same way to the way Charley cocked her eyebrow like John when she questioned something. But in essence they were strangers with no shared life experiences to bind them. At least not yet.

  “I’m not sure sending that family album for Christmas helped,” Marlena added.

  “It was a beautiful book and a thoughtful gift,” John assured her.

  “But since I had one made for each of the kids…it just may have been too pushy.”

  “Doc, you said yourself that Charley’ll reach out to us when and if she wants us in her life,” John reminded her.

  “That was me being a doctor, not a woman,” she admitted.

  “And if there is anything you are in spades, it’s a woman,” he growled sexily.

  “I love you,” Marlena said, managing a smile.

  “And I love nothing more than being with my gorgeous wife, but we can only have so many romantic dinners.”

  “How am I to take that?” She grimaced.

  “Maybe it’s time for an adventure.”

  “Like the helicopter skiing you’re determined to try?” Marlena said, tilting her head.

  “Why don’t you let me surprise you?” John said, cocking his eyebrow in the way that always got her.

  Jackson didn’t need long to realize that Abby’s favorite gastro-pub was not the best place to try to extricate himself from his self-inflicted predicament. As they walked into the busy restaurant, he realized they knew a number of people nursing Bloody Marys with their brunch, and the entire staff knew Abby as if she were their sister.

  Jackson didn’t want to hurt her. He knew the pain of being dumped. It had only happened once, but the memory still lingered.

  “Kenny,” Abby said to the busy waiter, who lit up when he saw her.

  “Right on time for your reservation,” he lied as he escorted them to the only open table.

  Abby didn’t need reservations most anywhere. And not because of the guests she did or didn’t bring into the restaurant—it was because of the way she cared about the staff as people.

  “How was your New Year?” she asked as she and Jackson were seated near the window overlooking the street.

  “Not as good as yours, I’d say,” Kenny commented as she flicked the fingers on her left hand. “How many carats? And I assume it’s from you,” he said wide-eyed as he handed Jackson a menu.

  “Four…and yes,” Jackson answered with a wan smile.

  “Ramos Fizz?” Kenny asked Abby, knowing her favorite drink.

  “Absolutely,” she said, smiling. “Are you still serving breakfast?”

  “Until noon on holidays, and always for you.” Kenny winked. “She’s a favorite of ours, you know,” he said to Jackson. “And not just because she’s a great tipper.”

  Abby was known for her generosity. She felt good service deserved to be recognized.

  “A Negroni for my future husband?” Abby asked.

  “Exactly,” Jackson said, a bit startled.

  “And kippers and eggs?” she smiled. “Poached easy?”

  “Exactly,” Jackson repeated.

  “Eggs Benedict Royale for me, Kenny,” she added. “And how’s Daisy?”

  “She has a clean bill of health, thanks for asking.”

  Kenny’s Jack Russell terrier had recently had a suspicious lump removed, and Kenny had been a wreck over it.

  “You’ve got a good one here, Jackson,” Kenny said as he left to put in their order.

  “He likes you,” Jackson said, studying the face he’d come to know so well.

  “Christmas was tough for him with his dad gone,” Abby said. “Maybe I shouldn’t have brought that up.”

  “I doubt his situation was anything like ours,” Jackson sighed. “But I think we held it together pretty well.”

  Jackson, Chance, and Charley had bonded more strongly than ever that Christmas, following the death of their parents. It was the three of them against the world, and the boys had tried to keep family traditions intact, especially for Charley. Though both brothers had eschewed their religious upbringing, they went to St. Paul’s Christmas Eve festal carol service with their sister. The three then spent the night at Jackson’s and exchanged gifts in their pj’s on Christmas morning.

  “You know you can talk to me about anything,” Abby offered. “Especially now,” she continued, indicating the exquisitely cut ring. “You realize it fits perfectly.”

  “Um-hmm,” Jackson nodded.

  “I promise you I will do everything in my power to make you happy, Jackson. I’ve never felt this loved.”

  The look in her eyes told him that was true. And to his utter and total surprise, he’d never felt this loved, either.

  “One Ramos Fizz and a Negroni,” Kenny said, interrupting the moment as he set the drinks in front of them.

  “Thanks.” Abby smiled warmly and lifted her glass. “To us being the most envied couple in town.”

  Jackson slowly lifted his tumbler and clinked her frothy libation. He was getting more confused by the minute. He was used to women coming in and out of his life. Yet since his parents died, Abby had been there for him every minute. Had he been so absorbed with his own problems that he had neglected to see just how special she was? And had he come to depend on her warmth and compassion more than he’d expected to?

  Abby took a long sip from her glass as she slipped off her sheepskin boot.

  Jackson reacted, startled as Abby ran her bare foot up his pant leg and rested it in his lap. He gasped and his eyes widened.

  “How hungry are we?” Abby asked with just the right hint of seduction in her voice.

  Jackson thrust out his hand as Kenny passed their table. “Could we get our order to go?”

  ***

  The remains of their brunch sat on the table next to the bed as Abby rolled off Jackson. They’d had nearly two hours of wild sex, and both were giddy and exhausted.

  Suddenly they heard a sound. “Well, hello, Abby,” Chance said from the open doorway to Jackson’s bedroom. He was carrying two large bags from Harrods. “Lovely to see you.”

  “You, too,” Abby murmured, mortified, as she pulled the covers over her head.

  Chance could see his mother’s diamond still on her ring finger.

  “Charley?” Jackson asked.

  “Right here, big brother,” Charley answered as she passed behind Chance. “Things going well?”

  “Actually,” Jackson admitted, confused about it himself, “they couldn’t be better.”

  “Sis is leaving in less than two hours,” Chance offered, giving his brother a puzzled look. “You two might want to come up for air.”

  Chance pulled the bedroom door closed and followed Charley into her beautifully appointed bedroom looking acro
ss to Princes Gate, the massive complex that was once home to American ambassadors, including Joseph Kennedy.

  “Abby’s still wearing the ring,” Chance said with a lilt in his voice.

  “This time, getting it back might not be so easy,” Charley offered. “Maybe it’s best I’ll be out of their hair for a while.”

  “How long will you be gone?” Chance asked as he started to help her pack.

  Charley stammered, “I’m not really sure.”

  “No, really, how long will you be gone?” he repeated as he emptied the Harrods bag.

  “I didn’t ask.”

  Chance was dumbfounded. “You didn’t ask?”

  “It all happened so fast. And the photographer is so well respected that I just said yes. I have a passport and the time, and having this on my CV…well, I couldn’t say anything else.”

  “You didn’t ask.” Charley had never been the impulsive type, so Chance was stunned at her lack of information. But all three of the Gaines siblings had been thrown off their pins by their father’s betrayal. And though they seldom discussed it, they were more protective of each other than ever.

  “You’re going halfway around the world—” he cautioned.

  “Halfway down the world,” she interrupted. “But I need this, Chance, maybe the way we all need change right now. I’ll be fine,” she assured him. “Really.”

  The moment was broken as Jackson and a flushed Abby entered. She was now in her skinny jeans and one of Jackson’s shirts.

  “Hey,” Abby said.

  “Hey,” Charley answered.

  “I guess you heard,” Abby offered.

  “I did. Well, we both did,” Charley replied, trying to sound as positive as she could under the circumstances.

  “I will always take the best care of your mother’s ring. I hope you know that,” Abby said with genuine warmth.

  “We have no doubt,” Chance replied, trying to sound as positive as he could under the circumstances.

  “I’ve always wanted a sister, haven’t you?” Abby directed that to Charley.